Volunteer Diary: Stick Season

The latest guest blog from Lou Goom's Volunteer Diary following her visit a couple of weeks ago (all photo's by Lou Goom)

Everything inches up. From the hedgerows to the beaches, creatures turn their backs to the winter, face the sun, and sing. My car window is open, and I drive into the reserve accompanied by the coconut-scented songs of dowdy Dunnocks in the Gorse. Vivid green supersedes the marcescent leaves of oaks and beeches and a clattering of Jackdaws repurpose old nests, great and small. As above, so below; today I will be occupied, along with millions of minds in the Western world, in consideration of a matter that is life and death for many: the flexibility, compatibility, durability, and most importantly, the portability of sticks. As nests are woven all around me, my task is to disassemble Minsmere's Den Building area, and evaluate the pieces most suitable for reuse. An army of woodlice and cohorts are already dealing with the rejects, returning my unwanted branches to the earth's inventory.

Minsmere's Den Building Area is just a short walk from the Visitor Centre

Meriting a place alongside Andy Goldsworthy's sculptures, the dens were carefully constructed by children and their helpers in previous seasons, and space is running short.

It's time for this superbly constructed den to be demolished to allow other families to build anew

So my hands, that are in their sixth decade of service, will lay down the branches that are strong and pliable enough for reuse, ready for young hands to take up. A couple of visitors stop and one asks - do I find it a bit spooky, on my own here in the woods? And do I think this is all worth it now? Don't I feel it's too late to save things, with climate change? I answer their first question - I am not alone. The chequered flag lift-off of a Magpie announced its presence nearby some time ago. Its back is to me, but it watches over its shoulder, noting the whereabouts of viable twigs, promising turned logs and, probably, my packed lunch. Its iridescent tail feathers flip from emerald to indigo as it keeps its balance on a flimsy birch branch. Sharing my life with a very clever dog, I am well accustomed to the feigned insouciance of a predator that is quietly missing nothing.

Fungi provide a great photographic opportunity during a break from work

I have a nature table of photogenic items to look at during lunch - a citadel of fungi on an oak branch, some cherry coloured bark, lichen encrusted, and a small skull with a very long beak.

A mystery skull found in the woods

The couple take some photos to add to their own. They are going on to Sutton Hoo - a reminder that Minsmere is part of a trail of wonders spanning centuries. They pass along, leaving me to think about Suffolk and its many ghost stories. The Spirit of MR James stalks. The fingers of our forefathers press against the ever-eroding cliffsides, and Jacob Forster's remains teeter at the mercy of time and tide nearby. Luckily, the only whistle I encounter is the tandem call of Oystercatchers skimming the clearing. But James's spiders are here – they scour the fallen leaves, which move freely in the breeze.

Take time to stand and stare and share a moment's peace in the woods

I consider the second question: is it too late to conserve? When I applied to volunteer here, I wrote that I felt there was still a window of opportunity to enthuse people, to encourage more to value the natural world. And now that the fallen leaves have dried and defrosted, amongst the rustling, I dare to hear it - the whispers of our ancestors are in the elements all around - and they are saying..."perhaps". Maybe there is time - to make this place a start, not a finish? To see ourselves embedded and invested where we stand, to integrate into the natural order and nurture it, to embrace this land as 'a common treasury for all'? I won't find out by being a bystander, so I will carry on. You may say I'm a dreamer. But I'm not the only one.